6/16/2011 - birthdays that come and go. . .

Today is my birthday.  I am 31.  My parents are on their way up to the City so Elliot and Grr can go out to Fort Funston for a nice run through the sand before we all come home to a mom-cooked meal of noodles.

For my birthday last year, I bought my first condo, officially signed papers and went into (good?) debt for what will likely be the rest of my life.  Two years ago, Steve and Jason took me out to dinner at a Brazilian BBQ restaurant, and unbeknownst to any of us at the time, it would be one of the last dinners out together before Steve passes away.

Four years ago, I got drunk, like holding-onto-a-parking-meter-outside-of-a-gay-bar drunk, stayed out till midnight in the Castro and felt more like a 21-year-old than I ever did.  Five years ago, I moved out of Eddie's house and into an efficiency studio overlooking the freeway.  10 years ago, my cousin got married; I served on her wedding party, and she got everyone to sing 'Happy Birthday' to me at the reception.  12 years ago, dormmates and I drove out to the Hard Rock Cafe in downtown Sacramento.  13 years ago, I met my first boyfriend.

I woke up this morning thinking about how I had spent all of my previous birthdays; those were the ones I specifically remembered.  It's funny, really, these birthdays that come and go.  My boss took my department out for ice cream earlier this week, and a co-worker asked me if I felt any different now that I will officially be in my 30s.  I said that I actually sometimes forget how old I am, or think that I am still 25, or even simply without age, and I certainly don't feel any different than how I felt last year or throughout the last decade.  I said, without thinking about it too much, that I still feel hip, still cool, still up on what the kids are into these days, even if I wasn't tuned into what the kids were into when I was one.

I don't know why I said that; I know that it isn't true.  I guess in a way, all these birthday just run together, from year to year, decade to decade, only with less presents, less ado, and far less anticipation as the years go by; as I got dressed this morning, I really wanted today to just pass as quietly as possible.  I don't know why. 

Yet when I happened to glance at the phone sitting on my desk this afternoon, seeing the "June 16" datestamp on the little digital screen lit a spark in my brain, like a flash of recognition in the eyes of an old friend: today is my birthday.